


Blame it on the alcohol

by bottledyarn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Hangover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottledyarn/pseuds/bottledyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn wakes up with a hangover after a party in someone else's bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame it on the alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> Originally by request on my tumblr.

Zayn could remember a handful of things that added up to disaster- he recalled tray after tray of Jello shots, shotgun beer competitions, beer pong, loud music, strobe lights, a darkened room, and lines of shot glasses.

The things flashed through his head as he gained consciousness, and he knew before even fully waking up that he was hung over. The headache hit him first, a pounding at every side of his head, a throbbing reminder that whatever it was he did last night was still haunting him. 

He groaned, throwing himself out of bed and rushing to his bathroom, trying to keep his eyes as closed as possible so as to keep out the light. When he ran into solid wood instead of through an open door, he jolted to a stop.

He fumbled blindly for the doorknob before finally cracking his eyes open further to find it. He stared at the wall. It wasn’t even a closed door. It was just a wall. With very weird striped wall paper, he might add. 

It wasn’t his wall paper.

Zayn turned around slowly, looking around this bedroom. He’d never seen this place before. He glanced down at himself, seeing that he was wearing only boxers- at least it was something.

There was a lump of fabric on the bed, next to where he’d been laying. It was obviously a person; he could make out the shape of their body. But the blankets were yanked over their head, so he couldn’t see their face.

Zayn crept slowly around to their side of the bed, crouching down so his face was level with theirs. He reached up and started pulling down the blankets, trying to keep his eyes open despite the light. 

He decided that the situation would be awkward regardless and he yanked the blanket down, his eyes widening in shock just as the person’s eyes shot open.

They both started yelling, Zayn falling onto his butt and the person scrambling backwards over the bed, ending up sliding off the other side in a tangle of blankets and legs.

“Liam!” Zayn barked, trying to crawl around the end of the bed to the other side, cringing at his own loud voice. Liam lay sprawled on the other side of the bed, groaning.

“My head hurts,” he moaned, clutching at the said body part.

“Liam,” Zayn repeated.

“What?” he snapped, glaring at Zayn.

“Do you remember last night?”

“Ugh,” Liam said. “I remember eating a lot of Jello.”

“Jello shots,” Zayn corrected.

“Ugh.”

“So…you don’t remember anything?”

“No. Call Harry and Lou, they were there.”

Zayn sighed and stood up slowly, trying not to jar his headache. He stumbled out of the room, knowing the general layout of the place. He found the house phone and called Harry and Louis, only having to wait two rings before Louis picked up.

“Hey Liam!” Louis said brightly. “Did you have fun at the party?”

“It’s Zayn,” Zayn said grumpily. “Please speak quieter.”

“Oh,” Louis said, only slightly less loud. “Why are you at Liam’s place?”

Zayn sighed again. “I don’t know.”

“How can you not- oh,” Louis said. Zayn could just hear him smiling. “I see.”

“No, Lou. I don’t know.”

“Yeah you do.”  
“No, I don’t know.”

“Well, I bet you have a pretty good guess. Unless you were on his kitchen floor, which I doubt somewhat since you sound so defensive.”  
“I’m not making any assumptions.”

“So you were on the kitchen floor?” Louis asked. 

“Not quite,” Zayn said, walking over to sit down on a couch. “Did you even drink last night? How are you so cheery?”

“I only had a few beers,” Louis said. “I’m fine. Harry’s awful, though. He refuses to leave his room, and he threw a shoe at me when I asked him if he wanted food.”

“That sounds about the way I feel.”

“I bet. You had like four straight shots and a quite a few Jello shots.”

“What about Liam?”

“I only saw him having Jello shots, but he had a ton of them.”

“Was I still conscious when you left?”

“Actually, you left first. You just kind of wandered out and I saw you call a cab. You were with someone, but I wouldn’t have guessed Liam.”

“Ugh,” Zayn said, pressing a hand against his forehead. “I don’t remember anything.”

“I’m not surprised,” Louis said. “Well. I guess you guys must have f-”

“Shut up Louis.”

“Just connecting the dots.”

“I wish I could remember something.”

“Does Liam remember anything?” 

“No. He just said he remembered eating a lot of Jello.”

“Did he not realize they had vodka in them?”

“Probably not,” Zayn said. “Anyway, Lou. Call me if you remember something important.”

“Will do!”

Zayn hung up and tossed the phone to the end of the couch, laying his head back. He groaned, shaking his head. What exactly had happened?

He didn’t even want to think about it. It wouldn’t bother him too much if they’d slept together, but his head was pounding harder every time he started trying to remember.

“What did they say?” Liam asked blearily, finally leaving his bedroom.  
“Louis said he remembers both of us drinking a lot and that he saw me leaving with someone.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah,” Zayn said. “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m going to take a million Tylenol and go to sleep.”

“Wait, I wanted to ask you something,” Liam said. “Where did you wake up?”

Zayn sighed. “In your bed.”

“Oh,” Liam said, turning around. “That makes everything a bit more confusing, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Zayn agreed, pushing his body further into the couch. “Let’s just wait until our hangovers are gone to talk, please?”

“Sure,” Liam said quietly, moving back towards his room.

They didn’t speak to each other for days. Zayn left before Liam woke up again, went home to recover instead of wait for the awkwardness to restart.

Zayn had remembered little bits and pieces with prompting from Louis. He recalled dancing with Liam, fooling around under flashing lights and heavy music, laughing and still drinking.

His last shred of doubt about what had happened between he and Liam disappeared when a memory of kissing him popped into his head in the middle of breakfast. He’d just taken a sip of juice when the memory suddenly fit together again, and he almost choked on it.

Zayn didn’t just remember that he’d kissed Liam; he remembered that he had liked it.

Louis started pressuring him to talk to Liam about the whole issue, having weaned it out of him that he remembered some of their night. Finally he had to see Liam again, as they had a meeting with the production company about their tour DVD.

Louis made sure that there were two adjacent chairs left by the time Liam and Zayn walked in (separately, of course) so that they had to sit together. It was tense and awkward, each of them occasionally shooting a nervous glance at the other. Niall looked incredibly confused with the whole thing; apparently Louis hadn’t filled him in yet, just Harry.

When the dreadfully long meeting was over, everyone left quietly except for Liam, who leapt out of his chair and half-ran out of the room, disappearing down the hallway.

Louis made an urgent face at Zayn, trying to get him to chase after Liam and finally talk. He didn’t move until Louis punched him in the arm, hard enough for him to know that if he stayed, things would be worse than if he went.

Zayn started running to catch up to Liam, finally reaching him and grabbing his shoulder in a little hallway.

Liam huffed when Zayn yanked him back, turning around.

“What is it, Zayn?” Liam said tiredly. 

“We never talked about last week.”

“Can’t we just pretend it never happened?”

Liam pulled away from Zayn’s grip and started walking away, rubbing his face with one hand.

Zayn stared after him for a moment, wondering if forgetting it would be the best choice. His brain said yes, but a dropping sensation in the pit of his stomach prompted him to grab Liam’s shoulders and push the younger boy against the wall of the hallway.

“No,” Zayn said. “We can’t forget.”

He kissed Liam, the moment bringing the same bright feeling he’d remembered from the party that was so long ago. He was nervous at first when Liam remained extremely tense, but then Liam relaxed, one of his hands grasping at the back of Zayn’s shirt.

Zayn pulled back, feeling his heart pounding in his head like the headache he’d had when he woke up in Liam’s bed.

“Can we please not forget?” Zayn asked tentatively.

Liam smiled slightly. “Okay.”


End file.
